“It shouldn’t,” she said quickly. “I am a grown woman.”
“Yes, but does it?” he asked again.
“It…reminds me of when I was a child,” Allara admitted reluctantly. “When Aunt would put me in a dark closet for bad thoughts or deeds. She told me there were…monsters in the closet that would find me if I didn’t mend my ways.”
Actually, she had told Allara there were Kindred in the closet. She couldn’t help thinking how strange it was that one of the “monsters” of her childhood was now comforting her in the darkness so many years later.
He made a deep, rumbling noise of disapproval.
“That’s cruel. You must have been so frightened.”
“I was,” Allara admitted, pressing closer to him. His bare chest was warm and firm—the perfect pillow.
“Don’t worry about the dark. Just cuddle up with me, baby—I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured.
It was the second time he had mentioned that word.
“Husband,” she asked. “What is ‘cuddling’?”
“This is—what we’re doing now. Holding each other all warm and comfortable and close.” He pulled her closer and stroked her hair. “Do you like it?”
“It is…very nice,” Allara had to admit. She sighed and relaxed more fully against him. Never in a million cycles would she have dreamed of being so comfortable in the arms of her enemy.
But so many strange things had happened to her that day and she was so emotionally worn out, that nothing quite seemed to matter anymore. She could feel the weight of the skora around her throat, demanding that she do her duty. But how could she when he had not yet taken her?
I will simply have to wait, Allara told herself. For what else could she do?
Still mulling the problem over in her mind, Allara relaxed against the big Kindred’s side and fell into an exhausted sleep.
Fourteen
Gods, she felt good in his arms! Brand held his new bride protectively close, loving the way it felt when she snuggled trustingly against him. He was so glad he’d been able to calm her down and convince her that he wasn’t going to hurt her. So glad that her fear had given way to trust.
Poor little female, he thought, stroking her long, silky hair as she snuggled against his side. What kind of a relative is this aunt of hers anyway? How could she fill Allara’s head with horror stories about the Kindred and then send her off to marry one of us?
To think that during their entire wedding ceremony she was probably thinking, in the back of her mind, about how she expected him to rape her at the end of it! The very thought made Brand angry—furious.
But maybe the aunt had been told the same kinds of stories when she was young, he thought. The Q’ess had considered the Kindred to be their enemy for hundreds of cycles—three and thirty generations, as Allara had said. Maybe all they knew were old stories and lies and misinformation about a race of warriors they didn’t even really know.
I wonder what really happened to Allara’s ancestress? he thought.
Allara had said she was taken away and the Kindred had promised she would be returned in a standard month, but then she never came back.
Probably went through the Claiming Period and decided to stay and bond with the Kindred who took her, Brand thought.
Very few females who went through the Claiming Period ever left the Kindred who had Claimed them. Part of that was a Kindred’s Bonding Scent—the pheromone every warrior’s body made specifically to draw a specific female to him. And part of it was how eager the Kindred were to please their females.
The way I’m going to please Allara, he thought, stroking her hair gently again.
He couldn’t wait to bathe her gently and massage her with scented oils during the Bathing Week…or to spread her thighs and lap her sweet pussy during the Tasting week.
But he would have to take things slowly, he cautioned himself. She was a virgin and clearly had absolutely no experience at all. Everything he did with her would be new and different and possibly frightening to the little Q’ess female.
Which was why it was such a good thing she was sleeping in his arms tonight, Brand thought. The longer his Bonding Scent had to work on her, the more willing and eager she would be to let him touch her.
It had definitely been working on her earlier. During their slow dancing, she had melted against him and he had scented her desire. In the days to come, they would need to do a lot more of that kind of thing. Dancing, cuddling…anything that brought their bodies into contact and allowed his scent to work on her was good.
But for tonight, he was content just to hold her. She was so beautiful—so perfect and tiny and precious.
Though he had known her less than a day, Brand was already in love.
Fifteen
Allara was having the most amazing dream. A Song was touching her intimately, caressing the tight points of her breasts and the forbidden spot between her thighs.
She gasped and arched her back as the deep, resonant notes teased lightly at her secret places. She knew it was wrong but it felt so right. It made her want to touch herself, as she had after the moun horn trio had played at the Song House.
I shouldn’t, she thought sleepily. What if Aunt catches me again?
But she was under the covers—safe from spying eyes. No one could see her if she just stroked that one special spot—the tender little bump between her legs that felt so good—just once or twice, could they?
Allara didn’t see how they could. Slowly, her hand crept down between her thighs. For some reason she wasn’t wearing the long, itchy, woolen nightgown she usually wore to bed. Instead, something soft and silky covered her, but only to the tops of her thighs. She pulled it up and cupped her mound as the Song continued to caress her. It felt so good, she couldn’t help parting her legs and letting her fingers slip between the swollen lips of her sex.
Shouldn’t do this—shouldn’t do it!
But, oh—it felt so good. Especially when she stroked that one spot—the one that made her breath come short and her heart speed up when she stroked it. And all the while, the Song went on and on, touching and caressing her even as she was touching and caressing herself.
It’s all right, Allara told herself as she stroked the delicate little button. It’s all right, it’s only a dream. You can’t do wrong in dreams…
Suddenly the Song got louder—closer.
Allara’s eyes flew open—this was no dream! She was on the Kindred Mother Ship and she was still alive because she had failed to complete her mission the night before.
At that moment, the door to the bedroom opened and Brand came in, carrying a tray and humming tunefully, his Song filling the air every bit as much as the warm, sweet scent of whatever he had on the tray.
“Oh!” Allara gasped and yanked her hand away from her forbidden area.
His golden eyes grew wide for a moment, then he winked at her in apparent understanding.
“Hmm, starting the morning off right, were you, sweetheart?” he rumbled, giving her a knowing smile.
“I…I don’t know what you mean.” Allara curled her hand into a fist, her heart pounding against her ribs. Would he beat her like her aunt had? Would he be angry at her for touching the place on her body which should be reserved exclusively for her husband?